entreat me not to leave thee
by displayheartcode
Summary: From being college students sharing a dorm to having a house in the suburbs, Tom and Carl have always been partners. [Relationship Study]


**a/n:** I was mainly going to write some unedited angsty Wizards at War stuff.

May the memories of the actual Tom and Carl be for a blessing.

 **Disclaimer** : Nope. Not You, DD.

 **Title** : entreat me not to leave thee

 **Word Count:** 2K

 **Summary** : From being college students sharing a dorm to having a house in the suburbs, Tom and Carl have always been partners. [Relationship Study]

* * *

 **i.**

The rain slid off Tom's personal shield. It pattered over the compressed air as he hurried his way to class, begging to the Powers that he wouldn't be late for his first exam. The New England surroundings blurred with the weather. The red-gold foliage was just a haze in the mist and rain, and so were the students taking the same footpath.

 _Biological-slash-physical…that's bones and medicine…archaeology is Indiana Jones…cultural is obvious…_ Tom silently recited. He chanced a look at the notes in his hands. The dry pages crinkled with wizardry. _Linguistics_. His stomach rolled when his eyes moved down the page. There was so much information and little time left… _You're a wizard,_ he reminded himself. _Anthropology is already a part of the job._ Tom allowed himself a moment of happiness at remembering his visits to the Crossings, learning about cultures on far-off planets and nearby dimensions.

The building came into view. Tom let out a shaky sigh, and a shadow suddenly came over him as he reached the stone steps.

It was Carl, standing on the top step with an umbrella in hand, smiling with his clear gray eyes. His Brooklyn accent cut through the nervous fog in Tom's mind. "Hey, roomie. Thought you wouldn't want to waste the energy."

"Thanks." Tom let the spell end, feeling the displace of warm air as a cold autumnal wind rushed by them. "Ready for the exam?"

"I would be if _someone_ hadn't been muttering to himself near midnight." They entered through the front doors, boots squelching on the floor. There was the nervous hum of students filling into a lecture hall, notes in hands and mouths twisted in frustration. Carl closed his umbrella, shaking the rain off. "But you got this, Swale."

"You're just saying that because we're roommates."

"Because we're _study partners,"_ said Carl, and then in a whisper as they joined the others in the lecture hall, "And wizards don't lie."

 **ii.**

"Partners?" Tom asked. The air was knocked out of his lungs, and it was not from the spell.

Dust motes circled in the air. The faint ozone-smell of magic lingered from their recent work, their names still written on the floor inside the graceful design of the matrix. There was a change describing their relationship, something Tom hadn't noticed until their errantry in the library basement. It had to have been gradual, bringing them together as strangers to roommates to friends and now — now there was _this_ to think about.

Carl's olive skin went pink with embarrassment. "Yeah, well, don't you think we work well together?"

"It's a big commitment," said Tom. Much like wizardry, partnering with someone was not be taken lightly. It meant sharing power with another person, knowing them by touch alone, having absolute trust when the world was falling out from under their feet. But who else would Tom want by his side?

"Who else would I trust to anchor the other end of a mixed-interval time slide?" he admitted.

"And leave the Mesozoic period unprepared for you? What kind of partner do you think I am?" Tom lifted the lacework that was Carl's name. It pulsed like a second heartbeat, warm and recognizable as entering their shared room from a cold day outside. Tom could almost make out the individual notes in the name, like the scent of the shaving cream Carl used, the taste of the Dutch instant coffee he preferred. Tom carefully preserved it in his manual, and Carl did the same with Tom's name. It took absolute care to handle a wizard's name. "Where you, I will go," he promised, feeling the flare of power warm his hands and heart.

Their shoulders knocked together as they cleaned up their work. A smile shared over the pages of their manuals as they double-checked their précis before leaving the basement. Magic muffled their footsteps going up the rickety stairs and bolted the door.

Exhausted but happy, they raced each other back to their dorm, ready for another adventure.

 **iii.**

Tom traced the words of the Speech with his classic magician's wand, feeling the hum of power go through him. The spell grew around them, twisting and turning into a dome of flashing words, protecting them from the heavy cloud that loomed in the sky. The Lone Power had been busy lately with Its new inventions.

 _But so have we!_ Carl's voice spoke clearly in his mind. The spell had specific requirements to counteract Its power. Sudden heavy storms that brought out negativity in people, changing their usual words into hurtful lies.

"Three powerful truths," his partner said. He held his hands out, the air surrounding them blurred with power. "I go home to Brooklyn every other weekend because I'm afraid of not being there for my sister." The chain of Speech appeared in his hands, the ends open on either side to receive more.

Truth scarped the inside of Tom's throat. There was always a price to pay. "I lied about what happened during Christmas. My parents don't want to see me ever again." With shaking hands, he used to wand to connect his truth to Carl's. Pain burst inside his heart. He could still hear his father's command to never come back. Tears filled his eyes.

Carl reached for his hand, tethering him to the present. The chain of glowing Speech held them together. "Sometimes it's hard for me to keep my Oath. I want to help so much, but it's easier to be afraid."

"I'm scared about ruining our partnership because I don't know what I want in my future after college."

With hands clasped together, the chain grew between them. Their eyes met, vulnerability cracked in their souls like an open wound. They were partners, they trusted each in the intimacy of their Art, knew each other's names like their own. They had shared countless sleepless nights over homework, sharing secrets in the quiet of their room, gone traveling to planets and saved each other from certain death. No lie could tear them apart, but truth held a different power.

In the sudden silence, their powers waited for their final truths.

Tom spoke first, almost haltingly, "I told you that where you go, I will go. I mean that in every way possible. Carl…I want to be more than just partners with you." His chain was half-finished, its free ends swayed and pulsed with light. "And since wizards don't lie, you deserve the truth about how much I like you."

Carl touched the ends of Tom's truth. "And I like you, too."

 **iv.**

Tom hefted a box full of books. "Last one!" he called out, entering their new living room. With a single syllable in the Speech, the door closed behind him. Their puppy scrambled over the polished floor, yipping and circling around his legs. "Hang on, Monty. Your toys are around here somewhere."

Carl whistled from the kitchen. "Here, boy!"

Monty rushed to his favorite person.

"Why doesn't he respond to me like that?" Tom asked, putting the box down next to their couch. He joined them in the kitchen, momentarily amazed at the controlled mess that had formed. Unopened boxes were crammed underneath their cabinets, wads of crumpled tape stuck to Monty's black fur, and pans and other kitchen supplies filled all the empty spaces.

Carl picked Monty up and kissed the top of his head. "Because he has standards. Who loves me the most, you do!"

 _I do!_ Monty agreed. _Play with me! Love me!_ He wagged his tail, reaching up to lick Carl's mustache.

Tom picked his way through the mess, trying to find their landline. Their stove had yet to be fixed, and there was honestly nothing edible left in the fridge other than Monty's special dog food, and Tom wasn't _that_ desperate. "But my love for you can order pizza."

"Wait, don't call. I can still fix the stove!" promised Carl. He somehow found their mismatched tool box. Monty, now back on the ground, chewed on his shoelaces. "Don't you trust me?"

Tom dialed the number. "I love you both enough to have a house that isn't on fire." He rolled his eyes at his partner's pleading, knowing full well what Carl was capable of. Talking lightning storms into collapsing as harmless clouds? Yes. Basic homecare and mechanics? No. Their former apartment back in Brooklyn was still healing from Carl's attempts. "Be a good partner and find the paper plates for me."

 **v.**

"I think something's wrong," Carl confessed in bed. "It's like I left the oven on or something."

Tom frowned and looked at the bedside clock. It was two in the morning and none of them had slept. "I already checked on the dogs. Door's locked, too. I can't think of anything else." But that was a lie. _Something_ was fluttering in the back of his mind. A vague sense of panic that was growing louder by every hour. Maybe it was the recent onslaught of depressing news no one could escape from? Or was it the recent rejections Tom received for his manuscript that he had poured his heart onto?

There was something decidedly wrong, a crack in the world they were constantly tripping over. He tugged the bedding tighter around him, stealing part of Carl's.

 _I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what's happening. I can't remember what's wrong. I can't remember what I can do to stop it._

Carl reached for his hand in the darkness. "You okay there, partner?"

The word sparked a sudden sensation in Tom's heart. "Where you go, I will go." He blurted out, the words bringing a strange clarity to his cluttered mind. It was right _there_. A book in his hands with Carl standing next to him. The truth was a brilliant thing for a precious moment, and it slipped away like water in his hands.

Carl squeezed his fingers. "And wizards don't lie."

 _Wizards._ What a strange phrase, Tom thought before an uneasy sleep could claim him.

 **vi.**

In a rare weekend free of responsibilities, Tom and Carl sat out on the patio, enjoying the summer sunshine. Carl was playing with Monty and Annie, using wizardry to lob the ball back and forth in the air, as if he was being aided by invisible ping-pong paddles. Tom sat on the steps, an old book in his hands, but he preferred watching his boyfriend play with their dogs.

Laughter and barking filled their backyard. The Koi fish from their pond were offering commentary as the trees bickered with each other and the grass chanted _growgrowgrow_. Tom briefly wondered if Timeheart for him will look like this. He could think of no other form paradise should take, no other joy than being with Carl and living their lives together. A serene sense of peace filled him, putting him at ease. Being a wizard meant enjoying these unspoiled moments.

 _In Life's name and for Life's sake, I say that I will use the Art for nothing but the service of that Life…_ their first day sharing a room in undergrad. The joy in Carl's voice at meeting another wizard. Building spells together and going on errantry in between classes. He saw their friendship growing into a partnership, a relationship that tethered them even when the world felt so dark. Between everyday issues, their jobs as Seniors working on the East Coast, the Pullulus and everything else, there was no one but Carl whom Tom would choose over and over again.

He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. The words of his own promise to his partner echoed in his mind. _Where you go, I will go_. Similar words Tom had remembered from his religious education, the story of Ruth and Naomi. Two people who managed to find each other despite their tragedies, building a life together. For Tom, they were the only right words to use to describe his sincerity.

He touched the spine of his book and then over his heart. "Hey, Carl. How do you feel about getting married?"


End file.
